Tag Archives: game night

Holy crap, Kickboxing Erika and I came up with the greatest idea ever yesterday! It started with her offering to give me a ride to Game Night after kickboxing, and I really wanted to show up wearing my cup, because wearing a cup to Game Night is just a good gag. Then we got on the idea of how all the other library students are really good crafters, and I suck so hard I can barely knit a square, and next crafternoon I am just gonna sit in the corner and bedazzle my jockstrap. That’s when it suddenly became clear we had stumbled across the world’s greatest idea, ever. Bedazzled Jockstraps! It’s the sporty version of vajazzling. Don’t think I won’t do it, either. And don’t think there won’t be pictures. And eventually some sort of commercial empire. We’ll need taglines. “Get kicked in the crotch with rhinestones.”

Game Night last night was delightful! In the hours I was there, we managed to play, like, four rounds of Balderdash. There is nothing more fun than ridiculous lies with friends. I also came up with a new version of “That’s what she said” for this decade. Everyone say it so it catches on, OK?

Leah: “I’m confused, but I think I just lost.”
Me: “That’s what I say every time I make love.”

A leftover issue from the trip to the giant-themed restaurant last week. Do you think, dear Internet, that a proper giant-themed restaurant should have giant food, because it is for giants, or tiny food, to make you feel like a giant? Kathleen believed it should be the former, I thought it should be the latter, and this terrible issue threatened our precious friendship right up until we got normal-sized food and were united in disappointment.

I finally did some pushups yesterday, after not doing any for well over a week. I was getting worried about my buffness, OK? We also did an exercise where we had to dodge either a jab to the face or block a right hook. Only two choices, and I still kept fucking up and getting hit. This is why I’m always bruised.

In grappling, I rolled with poor Angela and kept her locked up in a choke for, like, a minute and a half before I finally had it tight enough to actually cut off her air. So she just couldn’t move and was extremely uncomfortable while I was flipping her around and trying to make the choke proper. My arms were actually starting to hurt from flexing so hard. This is how my showdowns with muggers will end. “Damn, my biceps are aching. Can you just, like, go?”